A Light Hits The Gloom On The Grey
by Zarius
Summary: (Rewrite) Sherlock and Molly talk about setting off a bomb (tag for 4x03 "The Final Problem")


**SHERLOCK:**

 **A LIGHT HITS THE GLOOM ON THE GREY**

 **WRITTEN BY ZARIUS**

 **(Contains spoilers for "The Final Problem")**

 **Note: I originally wrote this as Sherlock attending a therapy session, but I realized it worked so much better with Molly involved, so this is a rewrite. An apology to the people who had already added the original to their favourites**

* * *

"You just...ran out?" Molly Hooper asked as she stored another cold corpse within an icy compartment of the morgue.

"Yes, it was a bit like the end of that movie _Batman Forever_ , John's quite a sprinter, had to put my best legs forward to get a step ahead" Sherlock replied.

"Was there any reason?" Molly continued.

"Yes there was a bomb" Sherlock explained.

"Really?" she inquired further.

"Small in size, but it can leave some damage. It had two distinct wires. Red and Blue. I didn't want to cut both and risk setting it off in there " Sherlock revealed.

"And this was the Rathbone building?" Molly continued.

"Yes" Sherlock said, a sheepish, awkward look

"That building's still standing" she added.

"It is?" Sherlock asked

"John said it's where you had your sessions after Mary died " she pointed out.

Sherlock sighed.

"Oh...right, well...as you can see, I made it out unscathed as well"

Molly put down her tools on the table firmly, she scowled at Sherlock, Sherlock dared not make direct contact with her fierce and condemning eyes.

"For god's sake, there was no bomb Sherlock, you're making it up" Molly continued.

"Oh please, we're made up of everything, nature, technology, it's all built piece by piece" Sherlock snapped back, but keeping eye contact to a minimum, he just stared at the floor.

Molly tilted her head to the right, trying to see what kind of facial expression Sherlock was making, he was like a school boy fresh off of being disciplined by a salty headmistress. It fascinated her.

"Look at me Sherlock" she ordered. Sherlock reluctantly complied,

"It falls to us to tear it all down. that's what the bomb is, isn't it Sherlock?" Molly revealed

"Into deduction are we? If I say, that is one little endeavour I wouldn't wish on any sane soul" Sherlock revealed, trying to keep his thoughts composed. He wondered what he was even doing here, and then the raw memory projected itself into his thoughts.

"You're avoiding the subject, you always do that with me, until it suits what you want" Molly said

"I have a soul, but I assure you, I am not sane, otherwise I wouldn't be here" Sherlock continued, this time making sure to maintain eye contact. If he was to stand any chance of getting through this, he had to be thorough and master social skills that were still, so late in his life, at their infancy.

"I'm no longer turning grey" said Sherlock

"I fail to see how the quality of your hair care has anything to do with sound mental health" Molly said.

"No, not grey in the sense of physical manifestation" Sherlock explained, "I meant...I don't think I operate within a grey area anymore...not with what I'm going through"

Molly's interest was piqued

"What are you going through?"

Sherlock choose his next few words carefully. Collected and composed for now, but the therapist could tell he had a quivering lip

"That expression...John described this sort of thing to me before" Molly observed, "When you were investigating that hound..."she said "You were distant, reduced to random observational deductions, almost like you had a hardware crash"

"Crashing would be preferable to the appalling loading times I've had to endure in the last few weeks" Sherlock insisted, his voice getting slightly deeper, he tightened the grip on his own hands. Molly could tell he was frustrated, and gently clasped her right hand over his freshly formed fist

"When you said there was a bomb in the building...it was you fleeing from what the fear of setting one off in here, wasn't it? Something you're burying and that only John can see" Molly replied.

"No, no this has everything to do with the one person who can see me, see right through me and I never gave her any sort of order in my day...any day"

"Because you operated like normal human interaction, normal human behaviour, was well above your station" Molly concluded.

Sherlock nodded.

"Three words, I was forced to say three words, against my will, and more to the point, against your strictest wishes, I made you say them back. I forced myself on you"

"No, no you didn't ,don't ever think that" Molly said, uncertain and frightened as where the tone of the conversation was going.

"No, no in precisely that sense, we weren't even in the same building, we were connected by phone...but in those moments spent on the line, we came to understand one another in ways I hadn't comprehended before...I came to understand myself in ways I hadn't comprehended. I can't operate in a grey world anymore, because there is so much light in it"

"John told me about your sister, that you've been reconnecting with her" Molly said, furthering her inquiry.

Sherlock took a brief moment to silently bless John for not telling her that Euros had been directly responsible for the situation that had caused so much heartbreak for both of them.

"My sister is a bit of a late bloomer" Sherlock added, "We find ourselves lost in our musical indulgence, we put on little concerts for our family, most therapeutic, I wish I could find it an easy remedy for what functions outside of isolation, where we are prone to the wild and naked horrors of expectation's sheer demand of the human race"

"Humans are a species that manifest character in a variety of ways Sherlock. Not one soul can hope to be the same, not even those who opt for isolation" Molly revealed.

"That's just it, I can't stay isolated, not anymore, I have to deal with matters like a precision gentleman, both in matters of the heart and mind" Sherlock continued.

"And what do you think matters more to the great Sherlock Holmes in all the years you've known your friends? All the years you've known this person?" Molly continued

"Logic always got in the way of sentiment, now I've been forced to switch the roles. I know where to find another bomb, it's the same bomb, it exists in the places I dare not to tread, yet I'm compelled to try. Logic dictates I don't cut the blue wire, logic dictates I don't set if off"

"Logic dictates you defuse it" Molly added, now it was her turn to look away. She reckoned Sherlock was about to pull away, distance himself from standing any kind of a chance with the moment they were sharing, as he always did.

"I don't want to" Sherlock said. Molly froze where she stood, her heart fluttering.

"If I do that, I'll steadily learn to cut all the wires, like it or not, it's a part of me, presently I am the blue wire, and I dare not explode"

"What about the red wire?" Molly asked, turning around.

"That wire I've already cut...and both our hearts burned" Sherlock replied.

Sherlock unclenched his fits and touched Molly's face tenderly with his hand, stroking it in a fine line from cheek to nose, before turning to exit the morgue.

Molly sprang to action.

"Sherlock... Red is as much the colour of feeling as blue is. You've shown me how blue you are, how red you are, now leave the bomb to me, it's up to me to decide whether or not I should set it off"

Sherlock placed his deerstalker atop his head, straightening it slightly

"I'll come 'round later, spend some time with you, John and Rosie...I'll let you know then" Molly added.

"What was that film I mentioned when I described how John and I made it out of the building?" Sherlock asked

" _Batman Forever_ " she said.

"There's a song from that, quite a popular one, I've found myself humming the last couple of lyrics found in the main chorus lately, might be an appropriate thing to recite to my friend...

 _Now that your rose is in bloom_

 _A light hits the gloom_

 _On the grey"_

Molly smiled, she dashed up to Sherlock and planted a light, gentle and forgiving kiss on his right cheek, wrapping her arms around him in a warm and relaxed embrace.

Whatever ticking time bomb had existed between them, she had chosen to set it off.

Red wire prevails.


End file.
